


Home for Christmas

by ItsNotEasyBeingQueen



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Christmas Klaine, M/M, Mild Angst, but no more angst than your average Hallmark Christmas movie, friends to boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 19:24:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17493824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsNotEasyBeingQueen/pseuds/ItsNotEasyBeingQueen
Summary: Blaine and Kurt are next-door neighbors and best friends, but come their first Christmas, they find out something shocking - Kurt loves Christmas; Blaine does not.  Kurt sets out to change Blaine's mind, and in the process, they both might end up getting the best gift of all.





	Home for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't able to participate in the Klaine Advent this season, but I did have a Christmas story I wanted to tell. Sorry it's so late. Hope you have just enough holiday spirit left to enjoy this one.

Home for Christmas

Blaine plodded up the three flights of stairs, cursing the weight of his winter coat and boots with every step.  Leave it to the most bleak and depressing part of the year to require bulky clothing.

He paused outside the apartment door, shifting his messenger bag from his hip to his back and shuffling the two bags of Chinese takeout from his right hand to his left as he fished his keys out of his pocket.  With a final stomp of his feet to shake any remaining grimy New York slush from his boots, he fumbled the key into the lock and pushed the door open.

Blaine loved New York.  Of course he did.  It was the place he’d worked long and hard to get to, and he was so grateful to be living out his dream.  But sometimes, like on this gray day deep in December, he simply wanted to close the steel door behind him and block out the hustle and bustle of the city.  Tonight, he was going to settle in with his takeout and maybe a movie, and forget all the craziness that was New York a week before Christmas. 

“Hey, Kurt, I’m here,” he called out tiredly. 

There was a comfort in saying those words.  Blaine marveled at his good fortune.  He’d lived on campus his first two years of college, but circumstance had forced him to seek housing elsewhere at the beginning of this year.  Luckily, through a friend-of-a-friend, he’d learned that an apartment had opened up in this building, which was conveniently located near campus and miraculously affordable.  After a series of sitcom-worthy run-ins with the literal boy next door, he’d finally introduced himself to his neighbor, Kurt.  They’d become fast friends, bonding over everything from coffee shops to fashion choices.  When Blaine caught his boyfriend cheating on him, Kurt was the one to console him with ice cream and tequila (not at the same time).  When Kurt’s boyfriend dumped him, Blaine’s argyle sweater-clad shoulder absorbed Kurt’s tears.  They’d exchanged extra keys a couple of months ago after Blaine accidentally locked himself out of his apartment one evening.  It was now common for them to let themselves in on certain occasions.

One of those occasions was their standing Friday night dinner.  Kurt had told Blaine of his dad’s traditional dinners back home, and as they were both still single, Blaine had suggested that the two of them start up a New York version of the ritual.  Tonight’s dinner was Blaine’s choice of takeout at Kurt’s place. 

In a series of moves borne of habit, Blaine deposited the takeout on the table and shucked his coat, hat, and scarf, then turned towards the living room.  He was glad he’d put the food down already; otherwise, it would have landed on the floor when he dropped it in shock.

“Uh, what happened here?” he asked, confused. 

“Christmas happened, silly!” Kurt replied as he appeared from the hallway carrying a small box that he placed on the coffee table.  “You like?” Kurt spread his arms to showcase his handiwork.

Blaine had never seen so many decorations.  There was a medium-sized tree, which appeared to be live, bedecked with ornaments, lights, tinsel, and garland.  Twinkle lights surrounded each of the three windows in the room.  Every table had a snowman or a Santa or a candy cane on it.  There were holiday-themed throw pillows on the couch and in the two chairs.  It was all tastefully done, he supposed – after all, this was Kurt Hummel – but still…

“Um,” Blaine managed to mutter as he tried to take it all in.  His heart sank when his gaze landed on Kurt, whose cheerful face had fallen into an expression of uncertainty and disappointment.

“You hate it,” Kurt said, more a statement than a question.

“No, I mean, not ‘no,’ just…I don’t not…” Blaine advanced into the room, walking around the couch to stand next to Kurt.  “I’m sorry, it’s great.  Really.  You did a lovely job, Kurt.”

Kurt rolled his eyes.  “All that money you’re spending on studying the performing arts is going to waste if that’s the best acting you can do,” he snorted, crossing his arms defensively.

“No, Kurt, please,” Blaine pleaded, laying a hand on Kurt’s arm.  “I’m sorry.  I was surprised, that’s all.  I mean, I didn’t know you celebrated Christmas.  You always said you were a staunch atheist.”

Kurt relaxed slightly.  “Well, that’s true, but I don’t let a little thing like principle get in the way of Christmas.  Blaine, it’s _decorating_ and _presents_.  What’s not to love about that?” he said with a wink. 

Blaine chuckled and plopped down on the couch, letting out a yelp as he landed on something that was decidedly not a couch cushion.  He moved to the side and reached back, biting his lip as he came up with a nutcracker.  “Appropriate,” he grumbled, setting the offending item aside.

Kurt quirked his head to one side.  “Blaine, did I do something wrong?”

“No.” 

The one-word reply didn’t satisfy Kurt.  “So,” he prodded, sitting down beside Blaine on the couch, “can you tell me why you look like someone destroyed your bowtie collection?”

Blaine was quiet as he took a sudden interest in his hands folded in his lap.  Kurt gave him the time, and barely heard it when Blaine murmured, “I don’t really do Christmas.”

“You don’t _do_ Christmas?” Kurt parroted back in shock.

Blaine sighed.  He hated having this conversation.  People never understood, and wouldn’t leave it alone. 

“Look,” he began.  “Never mind.  It’s fine, I promise.  Everything is great.  Forget I said anything, okay?” he rushed, making to stand up until Kurt caught him by the arm and stared at him, demanding more.  “It isn’t a big deal, Kurt.  Some people get excited about Christmas; some people do not.  I’m in the second group,” he said flatly.

“Oh, my god,” Kurt exclaimed, sitting back dramatically.  “You’re a Scrooge!  How did I not know this?” he laughed.

“I am not a Scrooge!” Blaine protested.

“Well, if you aren’t a Scrooge, then you’ve lost the Christmas spirit, Blaine Anderson, and I am just the elf to help you get it back.”  Kurt smiled warmly, his tone light but not teasing.  He could tell there was more that Blaine wasn’t saying, but knew his friend well enough not to push.  With a quick pat to Blaine’s knee, he got up and crossed the room, picking up the small box he’d brought in earlier and appraising the tree from several different angles.  “I think it needs more tinsel,” he mused.

“Oh, god, no.  No more tinsel,” Blaine whispered.

xoxoxo

It soon became apparent that Blaine had unleased some type of Christmas monster in Kurt, who made it his mission to help Blaine find his Christmas spirit.  With the two of them off of school for the holidays, Blaine had planned to spend some quiet time working on his music and getting a head start on his reading for the next semester. 

Kurt had other plans.

The morning after their conversation, Kurt insisted that they go out for breakfast.  Blaine accepted, as they often went to their favorite coffee shop on a Saturday morning, but was confused when Kurt went left instead of right when they exited the building.

“Kurt, you’re going the wrong way,” he called after him.

“No, I’m not.  We’re going uptown.  Come on,” he replied over his shoulder, still walking.  With a shrug, Blaine trotted to catch up with his enigmatic breakfast companion, chatting happily as they made their way to the nearby subway station.

A short time later, they emerged at the corner of 42nd and Sixth Avenue.  Kurt hooked his arm through Blaine’s and began walking him across the street to Bryant Park.

“So,” Blaine asked, his voice laced with suspicion, “where are we going, exactly?”

“Oh, this little coffee shop near the library,” Kurt answered airily.  “I haven’t been up here in _ages_ and thought we’d go someplace different.”

“Uh-huh,” Blaine grunted disbelievingly as they passed the beautifully-decorated park, complete with an ice-skating rink that had been set up for the holidays.  “And this wouldn’t have anything to do with our conversation last night?” he pressed.

“What?” Kurt’s expression was exaggeratedly shocked.  “Why, that never crossed my mind,” he sassed as they entered a coffee shop directly across the way from the rink.

They got their coffees and pastries, and Kurt “coincidentally” happened to find a table by a window facing the rink where they could conveniently watch the skaters in a veritable New York City Visitor’s Bureau commercial of holiday merriment.  Kurt smirked knowingly, and Blaine pointedly made conversation about anything and everything else.

Coffees drained and pastries eaten, the two exited into the brisk mid-morning air once more.  “You know,” Kurt drawled slyly, “since we’re already here, and we came all this way uptown, it would be a shame to hurry back…”

Blaine stared at him.  Yes, he was going to make him say it.

Kurt laughed.  “Oh, come on, Scrooge.  We’re going skating,” he declared, taking Blaine by the hand and dragging him onward.

Blaine knew better than to argue, so he gave in and followed.  As they sat side-by-side, lacing their skates, he muttered, “I’m amazed you didn’t drag me to Rockefeller Center with the giant tree.”

“Rockefeller’s rink is for tourists and suckers,” Kurt scoffed.  “This is half as expensive and a third as crowded.  _Real_ New Yorkers come here, Blaine.”

It had been years since either of them had been on skates.  Blaine acclimated more quickly, much to Kurt’s chagrin.  Within minutes, Blaine was effortlessly gliding along while Kurt shakily puttered near the wall.  With a shake of his head, Blaine crossed the rink to Kurt’s side.  “Come on, Adam Rippon, let’s see what you’ve got,” he teased, taking Kurt’s right hand in his own and wrapping his left around Kurt’s waist.  Kurt shrieked and stumbled, nearly toppling them both to the ice.  “Trust me,” Blaine added, his voice low in Kurt’s ear.

Kurt took a breath and let go of the wall, allowing Blaine to guide him.  After a couple more near misses, he found his feet beneath him and figured out how to move with Blaine instead of fighting him.  From that point, things were much smoother.  He even allowed Blaine to skate backwards in front of him, holding Kurt’s hands, of course, to let him feel more independent. 

As much fun as it was, being out of practice meant sore feet and ankles in a relatively short amount of time.  Laughing and weary, they stepped off the ice and returned their skates, stopping for a hot chocolate on their way out. 

“Now, wasn’t that fun?” Kurt said with a bump to Blaine’s shoulder.

“Yes, Kurt, but,” he trailed off, stopping to sit on a bench.

“But what?” Kurt inquired, standing in front of him. 

Blaine angled his head up to find Kurt regarding him solemnly.  “I know what you are trying to do.  I appreciate it, I do…” he turned his eyes down again, struggling for the right words.  “Just don’t expect too much from me, okay?” he finished quietly. 

A gloved hand took Blaine’s and hauled him up.  “Okay,” Kurt said softly.  They walked on, their linked hands swinging gently between them.

xoxoxo

As the next few days passed, Kurt’s attempts at “de-Scrooging” Blaine continued.  He denied any ulterior motives whenever Blaine tried to call him out on it, of course.  It was pure coincidence that he needed Blaine’s help with making Christmas cookies (“Something was wrong with the first batch and I don’t have time to finish them all myself!”), or that there happened to be carolers performing at the coffee shop Kurt wanted to suddenly try for the first time, or that he needed one more gift that he could only get at Macy’s 34th Street store on the floor where kids went to visit Santa. 

Blaine was torn by the whole thing.  He was getting a bit irritated with Kurt, who clearly wasn’t getting the message to let the Christmas issue be.  Kurt wasn’t the first person to question Blaine’s viewpoint on the holiday, but he was the first one to try so hard to change his mind.  The situation would have been unbearable and Blaine would have sternly told Kurt to stop if it hadn’t been for one small tidbit of information that Blaine had never shared with Kurt.

Blaine was head-over-heels madly in love with his next door neighbor.

The feeling had grown over the past couple of months, and Blaine fought valiantly to keep it to himself.  Kurt had never expressed an interest in him, after all, and was Blaine’s best friend.  He didn’t want to ruin that.  Their friendship was far too important to him.  Kurt could never know.

Those secret feelings meant that however much Blaine wanted to rail against Kurt’s attempt to imbue Blaine with unwanted holiday spirit, he couldn’t deny himself any opportunity to spend time with Kurt.  Sharing coffee and ice skating had been heavenly.  Bustling around Kurt’s small kitchen to make cookies was a bittersweet glimpse of domestic bliss.  He’d wanted to turn tail and run at the sound of carolers, but he couldn’t resist when Kurt tugged him forward by the hand.  He was grateful for his thick winter coat when Kurt slipped his arm through Blaine’s and drew him close as they watched a bright-eyed little girl tell Santa about her Christmas dreams. 

Blaine was in a lot of trouble.

xoxoxo

Blaine plopped onto the couch next to Kurt, swiping the bowl of popcorn from his lap and batting Kurt’s hand away when he tried to steal it back.  It was two days until Christmas, and they were spending the evening at Blaine’s watching movies. 

“So, what’s on?” Blaine asked as he settled in and turned his attention to the television.  Before Kurt could reply, Blaine identified the movie and let out a groan.

“ _Bah!  Humbug!”_ Ebenezer Scrooge scoffed from the screen.

“Kurt, seriously?” Blaine whined, fumbling around on the couch looking for the remote to change the channel.

“Oh, come on,” Kurt laughed, snatching the remote from the coffee table and stuffing it under his leg so Blaine couldn’t reach it.  “I didn’t pick it.  It’s a coincidence, but I love _A Christmas Carol_.  It’s a classic.”

“Right.  A classic which _happened_ to be on, having nothing to do with the fact that you’ve been calling me Scrooge all week?” Blaine said derisively, failing at an attempted sneak attack across Kurt to retrieve the remote.

“Yes, Blaine.  It’s a coincidence.  Honestly,” he added, a little softer.  Blaine glared at him, eyes narrowed, then relented.  Kurt smiled triumphantly.  “Now, sit your ass down, be heart-warmed, and share that popcorn,” he demanded sweetly.

They watched the movie mostly in silence, settling next to each other on the couch.  While the Ghost of Christmas Past was busy showing Ebenezer Scrooge scenes from his youth, Blaine began to fidget in his seat. 

“You all right?”

“Yeah,” Blaine mumbled, shifting around again.  “It’s just…” he trailed off. 

Kurt retrieved the still-hidden remote, muted the sound, turning to his friend expectantly.

“I don’t know,” Blaine began, toying with the bowl of popcorn in his lap.  “I think Scrooge got a bit of a bum rap.  I mean, you leave a kid alone in a boarding school at Christmas, how do you expect him to turn out?”

Kurt tilted his head to one side.  “That’s an…oddly specific observation,” he said slowly.  “Are we still talking about the movie, Blaine?”

The black-and-white picture flickered wordlessly on the screen.  Blaine finally lifted his head, a small, sheepish smile on his lips.  The smile faded quickly, though, and Blaine began to speak, his voice a bit hollow.

“I was what polite people call an ‘oops baby’ in my family.  My parents had had Cooper quite young, and they were perfectly satisfied with him.  By the time I came along, he was a teenager, nearly off to college and out of their hair.  I was…inconvenient.”

Kurt dared not interrupt, but reached out to lay a warm hand over Blaine’s where it rested between them.

“It’s not that they were unkind, really, just sort of indifferent.  I saw my nanny more than either of them, but that wasn’t uncommon in their social sphere.  Anyway,” he sighed, “Christmas was never much of a big deal.  I got presents, sure, but the important part of the day was the big party they would have for all of their friends that night, or the party one of their friends was having that they would go to.  Not terribly interesting for a kid.

“You know how I ended up at Dalton.”  Kurt nodded in assent.  “They thought it best that I board there, and it worked well for me.  I settled in, made friends, joined the Warblers…”

“And got some long-overdue attention for the first time,” Kurt blurted in understanding.

Blaine blushed and smirked.  “Maybe.  So that first Christmas at Dalton, when all the other kids were making plans to go home for the holiday, I got a call from my mom saying that they’d been invited to Switzerland for a ski trip that they couldn’t pass up.”  He took a beat, focusing on Kurt’s hand atop his own.  “I wasn’t included in the invitation.”

“Blaine,” Kurt breathed.

“It was okay,” Blaine casually continued with a one-shoulder shrug.  “I knew by that point where I stood.  My friend Jeff insisted that I go home with him to his family, and they were great.  It was a lot of fun.  He’s one of five kids, so there was noise and people everywhere, but they were so sweet and made me feel at home.  Well, as much as they could.”

Kurt nodded.  He couldn’t imagine spending Christmas with relative strangers, no matter how friendly or welcoming they were. 

“What about your brother?”

Blaine shook his head.  “Coop had his own life in LA.  We’d never been too close, with the age gap and all.  We don’t ‘not’ get along or anything.  He simply never thought to bring me out there for the holidays.”

Blaine gazed across the room at nothing in particular.  “The next couple of Christmases passed the same way, always with a different friend offering to take me home.  My senior year, I decided to stay at Dalton for Christmas.”  Kurt’s quick intake of breath split the silence at the end of the sentence.  “I knew it was my last year there, and that I’d be off to college somewhere after that.  For some reason, I couldn’t take another Christmas as the tag-along schoolmate.  I begged off with some lame excuse about college applications or something.  Dalton always kept a skeleton staff on hand during holiday breaks.  We had several foreign exchange students, and they couldn’t always make it home.”  He shrugged again, trying to appear nonchalant.  “There were also a few of us ‘poor little rich boys’ whose families couldn’t be bothered with them, either,” he added bitterly.

“Blaine,” Kurt repeated sympathetically, squeezing the hand in his.

“Then I moved here to New York for college, and my parents didn’t even tell me where they were going for the holidays anymore.  It was simply a given that I wouldn’t be coming home.”

“So…you haven’t been home for Christmas…” Kurt faltered.

“…since I was fourteen,” Blaine finished for him.

_Oh.  Oh, no wonder,_ Kurt thought to himself.  He picked up the popcorn bowl, moved it to the coffee table, and pulled Blaine into a tight hug.

“Kurt, I’m fine,” Blaine insisted.  Kurt didn’t miss the catch in his voice, and hugged him tighter.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, arms around one another in the dimly-lit room.  Eventually they parted, and perhaps surreptitiously wiped away a few tears with heads turned aside. 

“So,” Kurt mumbled, trying to dispel the air of awkwardness, “did you make any plans this year?  You know my dad and Carole are coming here tomorrow and staying for a few days, you could always…”

“No!” Blaine interrupted, louder than he probably intended.  “No, no,” he continued more quietly.  “I, um, I’ve got plans.  You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Oh, well, that’s good,” Kurt responded, then hurriedly added, “I mean, not ‘that’s good that I don’t have to worry about you,’ but ‘that’s good that you have plans’ of course.  Yeah,” he finished lamely.  “That’s really, really good.” 

“Yeah.”  Blaine smiled half-heartedly.  “Well, I should…”

Before he could stop himself, Kurt blurted, “What _are_ your plans?”

Something akin to panic flashed across Blaine’s face, but it disappeared quickly, replaced by a smile.  “Of all the things, Cooper is actually coming to town this year.  Some friend of his is letting him use a fancy condo on the Upper East Side, and Coop wants me to stay there with him for a couple of days.  I’ll head over Christmas Eve and probably come back the day after Christmas.”

Something was off with Blaine, Kurt thought.  He was awfully chipper for a guy about to spend a holiday with his estranged brother.  Maybe it would be a positive thing for Blaine to reconnect with family, however, and Kurt wasn’t going to stand in the way of that.

“How wonderful!” he exclaimed, clasping his hands together.  “I’m so glad you’ll be with family for Christmas, Blaine.”

“Yeah,” Blaine agreed quietly.   “Christmas is all about being with the ones you love.”

xoxoxo 

Christmas Eve day was a flurry of activity for Kurt.  Despite his crazy to-do list for the day, he’d sent a text to Blaine in the morning to come over for breakfast before making the trek uptown, but Blaine’s short reply revealed that he was already en route.  Kurt was a bit disappointed that Blaine hadn’t said goodbye, but he immediately scolded himself for being silly and went back to his preparations.

He had lost the argument with Burt about meeting them at the airport.  As much as he hated to admit it, he was glad of the extra time.  All too soon, the intercom in his apartment buzzed and his father’s voice announced their arrival.

Hugs and kisses and “I’ve missed you so much” filled the small space in a way only the love of family can.  Kurt helped his parents with their luggage, settling them into his room.  (That was the battle he had actually won, insisting on taking the pull-out couch.)  The three chatted easily, catching up on each other’s lives and enjoying the luxury of being in the same room at the same time while doing so.  Carole helped Kurt as he bustled around the kitchen to make dinner despite his protestations that she was a guest.  Burt laughed at the two of them until Kurt declared he’d be on dish duty afterwards.

With dinner nearly done, Kurt was ushering Burt and Carole to their seats at the table when the intercom buzzed.

“You expecting someone else, Bud?” Burt asked.

Kurt furrowed his brow.  “No,” he answered, crossing the apartment and pushing the button which allowed him to speak to the visitor.  “Hello?”

“Thai Palace,” the speaker crackled.

 “Uh, I’m sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong apartment,” he responded, confused.

“Anderson, 4D,” Mr. Thai Palace barked back.

“This is Hummel, 4B, but you must be mistaken.  Anderson in 4D is…”  Kurt stuttered to a halt, his hand flying over his mouth as realization struck him like a freight train.  “I’ll be right down!” he all but yelled into the speaker.  Hurriedly, he slipped on his shoes and grabbed his wallet from the table by the door.  “Dad, sit.  Carole, could you keep an eye on everything down on the stove?  I’ll be back in five – maybe ten – minutes,” he babbled, flying out the door before either of his guests could react, let alone reply.

_Knock knock knock_

Kurt stood at the door marked 4D, a bag of Thai takeout in his hand and his heart in his throat.  If he was right, this was not going to be easy.

“Hang on,” a familiar voice called out from the other side of the door.  “How’d you even get up here, any…” Blaine began as the door swung open, the words dying in his throat when he saw who was at the door.  “Kurt?”

“If this is the fancy condo your brother’s friend offered, Cooper should get other friends,” Kurt quipped, swinging the bag of food out in front of him.

Blaine gulped hard, not knowing what to say.  Kurt took in his appearance – he was in sweatpants with a loose t-shirt and a very well-worn college hoodie.  His hair was loose and curly, a style Blaine usually reserved for sick days.

A moment passed, and still Kurt was in the hall while Blaine stood dumbfounded in the doorway, his grip on the doorframe so tight that Kurt feared he’d break it.  “You know, if you didn’t look so scared right now, I’d be pretty pissed at you for lying to me,” Kurt chided, using his free hand to pry Blaine’s off the door and letting himself into the apartment.  He placed the bag of takeout on the kitchen counter, then confronted Blaine, crossing his arms.  “All right.  Spill,” he demanded.

Blaine let out a bone-achingly tired groan, closing the door and walking over to the couch, half-heartedly gesturing for Kurt to follow.  He clicked the remote to turn off the television and plopped down onto the couch, leaning forward and burying his head in his hands.

Kurt sat beside him, not quite close enough for their legs to be touching.  He ran a soothing hand down Blaine’s back.  “Why did you lie to me, Blaine?” he prompted, his voice gentle and free of anger.

“I didn’t exactly lie,” Blaine mumbled into his hands, running them down his face and sitting up.  “Cooper _did_ invite me uptown for Christmas a few weeks back.  At first, I told him no.  I love my brother, I do, but he’s a bit of a flake, for lack of a better word, and I’ve learned not to give too much credence to his promises.  Or,” he added, glancing over at Kurt, “at least I thought I’d learned.”

“So what happened?”

“I caved in and agreed.  In true Cooper style, he canceled.  He got an audition for some movie – the next big blockbuster, he says – and it is scheduled for the 26th in LA.  So, naturally, that took precedence over making a trip to New York to be with me,” he said harshly.  He was about to run his hands through his hair again when he felt Kurt take one of them in his own.

“When did he cancel?” Kurt pressed.

Blaine huffed out a mirthless laugh, shifting on the couch to face Kurt directly.  “Friday.  The day I came over and found you decorating.”

“Oh my god,” Kurt gasped.  “You must have wanted to set the tree on fire.”

Blaine smiled softly, staring at their joined hands.  “No.  No, it’s…it’s a nice tree, Kurt.”

Silence fell between them.  Kurt scooted nearer, making a decision that thrilled and terrified him.  “Why don’t you come over and see it, then?”

Blaine’s head snapped up.  “No, Kurt.  I…I can’t.  I don’t want to be a bother…”

“Hush,” Kurt interrupted.  “You’re not a bother, Blaine.  Come on.  Come spend Christmas with me and my dad and Carole.”

“Kurt,” Blaine sighed.  “You’re so kind to ask me, truly, but I can’t be the stray at the Christmas table again.  I swore to myself after Dalton I’d never do that again.”

Kurt smiled sadly and shook his head.  “You are so stubborn,” he murmured to himself, but Blaine was close enough to hear anyway.  “Let me try this another way.  You said Christmas is, and I quote, “all about being with the ones you love,” right?  Right,” he answered himself without allowing Blaine to speak.  “Well, Blaine Anderson, I love _you_.  So, come spend Christmas with me.”

“I won’t be the random lonely friend dragged into someone else’s holiday,” Blaine persisted.

“Did I say friend?” Kurt chided gently.  He leaned in, cupping Blaine’s cheek with his free hand.  “Please hear me.  I.  Love.  You,” he spoke carefully, emphasizing each word.  He waited, gazing at Blaine hopefully.  He watched as the gravity of his declaration sunk in, and smiled when he saw recognition dawn.

“Kurt, do you mean…?”  Kurt gave a tiny nod, then laughed as Blaine broke out into the biggest smile Kurt had ever seen.  “But how?  When?  Kurt!” Blaine rambled, halfway between laughing and crying and grasping Kurt’s hand _so_ tightly.

“Always, I think,” Kurt replied with a shy smile, caressing Blaine’s cheek and wiping away a tear he found there. 

“Me too,” Blaine whispered back, giggling when he saw Kurt’s eyes open wide.  “I love you too, Kurt.”

They’d bicker later about who moved in first, but all that mattered was that the gap between them closed as they sealed their love with a first kiss.

Blaine gathered Kurt close, wrapping his arms around him in a warm embrace.  “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he confessed into Kurt’s shoulder. 

Kurt ran his hand tenderly across Blaine’s shoulders.  “You don’t have to hold back anymore.  And you don’t have to be alone, either.”  He leaned back enough to see Blaine’s face.  “So, let me ask you again.  Will you come over for Christmas?  You won’t be intruding.  After all, how can my boyfriend be an intruder?” he finished with a wink.

Blaine bit his lip, nodding happily.  Kurt squealed and hugged him again.  “Come on!” he exclaimed, practically dragging Blaine towards the door.

“Kurt, wait!” Blaine laughed, trying to free himself from Kurt’s arms.  “I can’t go like this!” he gestured towards himself, indicating his less-than-holiday-worthy outfit.

“Well, you have a point there,” he jokingly conceded.  “Get changed, and hurry over.  Dinner was about done when I left.”  He leaned forward to capture Blaine’s lips in a brief but passion-filled kiss, pulling away quickly and hurrying to leave.  “Oh, and Blaine?” he called from the door on his way out.

“Yes?”

“Pack a bag for a couple of days.  You’re staying over.  You can bunk out on the couch with me.  No funny business,” he added quickly.  “After all, my dad and Carole will be ten feet away.”  He shuddered comically.  “But there’s no need for you to wake up alone on Christmas morning.  Not anymore.”  He blew a kiss and slipped out the door. 

Blaine stood in his living room, his heart beating fast and more tears threatening to fall.  Not wanting to keep his boyfriend (boyfriend!) and family waiting, he hastened to his bedroom to change and pack a bag. 

For the first time in years, Blaine was going home for Christmas.


End file.
